


Niall Charming

by Sunshine_Magnet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, Glamorous Life, Kitchen Sex, Looking for his princess, Louboutins, Masquerade Ball, Niall loves food, Prince Charming - Freeform, Twitter, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_Magnet/pseuds/Sunshine_Magnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's new to the city and accepts a party invite.  He goes because he feels obligated.  She likes to drink whiskey.  He wants to get her off.  She loses something at midnight and gains a few hundred thousand Twitter followers by morning.  Including @NiallOfficial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Completely inspired by the weekend of flails we had when Niall Horan attended a party dressed as Prince Motherfucking Charming. We're still flailing.

There's a blur of blonde hair when Teegan bursts through the apartment door, nearly vibrating with excitement, blue eyes twinkling. "Dee! You're never going to believe what happened. Oh my God. You're going to love this! Get your thank you notes out and write one to my boss because we're going to a masquerade ball!" 

The clatter of glass hitting the counter coincides with the much-needed breath Teegan takes after running up the stairs and sharing her excitement. Delia peeks around the corner, the boxes of glassware and dishes temporarily forgotten. 

Teegan and Delia recently relocated to London from the great state of Texas, Teegan having been offered a senior editor position at a popular fashion magazine. Delia came along for the ride, her chosen career of book editor allowing her the freedom to work from anywhere. This party invitation marks their first formal party, aside from meeting some of the neighbors and finding their local pubs.

Delia grins at her best friend and roommate from across the living room. "Masquerade ball?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"Not just any masquerade ball," Teegan pauses. "It's being hosted by Syco. SYCO. Apparently it's a pretty hot ticket and it's pretty formal. We need to plan, like now."

Delia takes a seat on the sofa, a little flabbergasted. "Excuse me? Syco, as in Simon Cowell? As in the man who put together One fucking Direction? How? Why? And formal? Like how formal?" Delia's voice increases in pitch with each syllable, her cheeks turning pink.

Everybody in London with a pulse knows Syco equals One Direction, the five ridiculously young and good looking lads who caught Simon Cowell's eye a few years ago on The X Factor. He sprinkled his magic fairy dust on them, and they've sold millions of albums and sold out concerts since they formed a band nearly four years ago.

"Calm down, sweet cheeks. There's no guarantee they'll be there. From what I gather, it's rare for them to show at these shindigs. But yes, Syco. As for the hows and whys, it's an annual thing, my magazine wants it covered. I mean, there'll be celebrities there. Somebody needs to critique their costumes, so I volunteered. I told them I wanted to get a taste of all parts of the magazine." Teegan shrugs. "They bought it. We're going. And dress code is simply a formal costume, nothing scandalous; there's not really a theme, per se. It's a only a month or so until Halloween, you know."

"God, Teegs. This is amazing! We'll get your observations, then get drunk. And mingle." Delia is still dazed at the thought of a chance to maybe, possibly, fingers crossed, maybe be in the same room as the boys of One Direction. What? She's been trying to acclimate to London as best she can, and part of that is immersing oneself into the local culture. The 1D boys are literally everywhere. She and Teegan look at each other and simultaneously squeal, Teegan throwing in a little jig.

"It's going to be great! We have to go shopping." Teegan sits down and pulls her iPad out of her bag.

"What should we go as?" Delia asks, opening a bottle of wine and grabbing two glasses, plopping down next to Teegan on the couch. "Masquerade? Isn't that what they had in The Phantom of the Opera?"

Teegan snorts. "Yes, they did, when the chandelier crashes onto the ground. They had a masquerade in Step Up 3, too," she giggles. "I don't know. I don't want to be too stuffy."

Delia hums, trying to look over Teegan's shoulder. "Maybe we should start with the masks first? Find the ones we like, then find our costumes from there?" 

Teegan nods. "It's too bad we aren't in New Orleans. We could have found the perfect masks in a minute on Bourbon Street." She types into her browser and starts searching.

"What about this one," Delia points to one on the page.

"You'd look like a peacock," Teegan says, referring to all of it's brightly colored feathers in jewel tones. "You know what? It needs to be subtle. Plain, even. What do you think of these?" She points to some relatively plain masks, crafted using satin and Swarovski crystals. 

"Ooh, yes. Bookmark them. Now let's get some inspiration!" Delia flops open her laptop, pulling up Pinterest and queuing up a search.

Another bottle of wine later, their AmEx cards sit, well used, on the coffee table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The UPS packages arrive less than a week later, much to Delia's delight. She fires off a quick message to Teegan.

Teegan swipes her finger across her iPad at the notification of a new iMessage. She glances away from one of her interns to read.

"Masq ball outfits here. Come home for lunch! Let's play dress up! .x"

"You know what, Sophia? I said I needed these presentations spiral bound, in full color, with both a front and back cover. My meeting is at eight am tomorrow. I want them fixed, and on my desk, by three pm today," she barks, standing and straightening her pencil skirt.

"But Miss," Sophia protests. "It's one now."

"Indeed it is," Teegan says, grabbing her handbag and walking towards her office door. "Be back in a bit."

She all but jogs to their flat, dumping everything, including her god-forsaken heels as soon as her feet hit the entryway. "Where are they?"

Delia pokes her head out of her bathroom, a smile wide across her face. "I need your help zipping it up," she says, arms twisted awkwardly behind her, reaching blindly for the zip halfway up her back.

"Oh, Dee," Teegan whispers. "You look amazing," she says, reaching out to zip her friend's hot pink Oscar de la Renta "inspired" dress. The girls decided to do a play on Disney Princesses with a contemporary twist. Delia is going as Aurora, her dress a mock of something Jennifer Lawrence wore to a movie premiere. The asymmetrical neckline shows off her delicate collarbones, it's small matching belt drawing attention to her nipped waistline. She stands in front of the mirror, the silky fabric pooling at her feet.

Delia leads her into the living room, handing her scissors so she can open her box. Teegan cuts carefully, pulling the delicate powder blue taffeta and silk frock out of the box. "Put it on! Hurry!" Delia vibrates with excitement.

She strips quickly, pulling her hair in a low bun and slips the dress on. Hers is a replica of Lupita Nyong'o's Oscar dress, but at the masquerade ball, Teegan is simply going as Cinderella. She zips herself into the dress, twirling the full skirt as she steps out of the bathroom. "Well?"

Delia stares, wide-eyed. "Yes. It's perfect. We need tiaras. Or is that too much?" She giggles, opening her laptop on their kitchen bar.

Teegan shakes her head. "I think we have enough going on with the masks. Track our orders, would you? I need to go back to work and see what the interns have fucked up in the last hour."

Sophia manages to put Teegan's presentations in order properly, but she scowls when she accepts the delivery from Syco while Teegan is at lunch. The scowl never quite leaves her face during the days leading to the big event.

"Something wrong there, Sophia?" It's Friday afternoon and Teegan plans on leaving early to prep for the ball. She's noticed Sophia lingering outside of her office for the better part of the last hour and finally decides to say something.

Sophia stops, embarrassed. "I, um, wondered if you were going to use those tickets for the Syco Ball."

Teegan quirks an eyebrow. "Of course I am. I have an assignment to complete."

The scowl returns. "Oh. It's just, my sister and I-"

"I didn't ask," Teegan interrupts. 

Interns. They all think they're next in line to editor in chief, she thinks before forwarding her phone to voicemail and heading out. Little do they know, there's a long road to the top.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You actually look like Cinderella," Delia sighs as Teegan fidgets with her hair, pinning it into a loose French twist. "Add the mask. Let me see if we need to work on your eyes more," Delia says, handing her the ivory silk mask, adorned with crystals. She thinks she's put on enough eye makeup, but that is one area she's never quite mastered, honestly. "Here. More eyeliner," Delia says as she waves the kohl pencil in front of her friend. "Take it off."

Teegan follows instructions and looks up, allowing Delia the opportunity to further line her blue eyes. She looks in the mirror when Delia steps back. "Perfect. Now, do yours."

Delia giggles, smoothing her brown hair over her shoulder, twisting it into the loose ringlet reminiscent of a pin up girl style. She put on her gold mask, also adorned with crystals, her brown eyes popping with the cat-eye effect makeup she expertly applied. "Sexy Aurora? All I need is an apple," she giggles, coating her lips with blood red color.

"Wrong fairy tale," Teegan laughs, shaking her head, testing that her hair stays in place. (It does.)

"Look. I'm just saying, if any one of those One Direction boys are there," Delia raises her eyebrows, wiggling them.

"Delia," Teegan chides. "I need you to be prepared that they may not be there." She doesn't want Delia's hopes to be too high, but secretly agrees it would be fun to be up close to such cute boys for the night.

"I know. I know," Delia sighs, moving out of Teegan's bathroom. She peers out the window to the street below. "I think our car is here. You ready?"

"I was born ready. Let's go." They grab their clutches and wraps, heading out the door and off to the Masquerade Ball.

The Mercedes pulls up to the OXO Tower, across from the River Thames; the girls step out onto the red carpet, posing for photos against a backdrop with the Syco logo. There's a fair lot of people milling about, some just curious as to what was going on, others snapping pictures of whoever happens to be walking by. "Oh my gosh, these people think we're famous or something," Delia giggles, posing next to her friend.

"Or something," Teegan snorts. "Come on, I've got some crowd watching to do." They walk arm in arm into the tower, taking the elevator to the 8th floor restaurant that has been transformed for tonight's ball. The view from the wall of windows is breathtaking, both girls pausing temporarily to admire the lights from the city below.

Sipping a glass of champagne, Teegan settles in to work, observing and taking subtle notes on index cards she slips slyly in her clutch when she thinks no one's watching. 

_David and Victoria Beckham took Phantom of the Opera to heart. Lord, her dress probably weighs more than she does. Her classic powder wig is on point._

_Simon Cowell's not wearing a mask. Fun sucker._

_Marvin and Rochelle Humes are literally the cutest couple ever. She's gorg in all black and he's stunning in that tux. New power couple?_

_Nick Grimshaw in a tophat. He looks like one of the guys from Dumb and Dumber in those ruffles. What the hell?_

_Rita Ora looks like she borrowed a costume from Katniss ala The Hunger Games. Her District 10 dress without actual fire._

"Teegs," Dee's voice cracks as she grabs Teegan's hand. "Teegan." Her tone is a bit more forced, strained, her grip tight around Teegan's wrist. She finishes writing her note about Lily Allen and looks up.

"Yes?" Delia is flushed, her skintone closely matching that of her hot pink dress. Teegan looks around, trying to see what has stolen Delia's focus to no avail. "What? What's wrong?"

Delia shakes her head, her brain refusing to form words. Her lips are moving, but no sound is coming out. Teegan turns around to look behind her and she stills.

"Oh."

"Teegan."

Teegan swallows thickly, turning back to face Delia. "Is that?"

Dee nods slowly, trembling fingers bringing her champagne flute to her lips.

"Are you sure? Like, on a scale of 1 to 100?"

"100. I'd recognize that hair anywhere."

Teegan taps her fingers on their table, tucking her remaining notes and her pen into her clutch. She's seen enough. Work is over. She can catch up when the pictures hit the Internet later. "You're 100 percent sure that's him," she whispers carefully. Delia's head bobs up and down. Teegan nods once herself, downing the rest of her champagne. She steps back from the table, turning on her toe towards the man and coincidentally, towards the bar.

Now that she has a reason, she allows herself to look. His blond hair is recognizable, styled into a quiff, his blue eyes bright beneath his mask. He is talking to a group of people animatedly, laughing, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, as if he just can't contain himself. She's seen him before - they are everywhere, these lads. She knows him to be the one called Niall, the Irishman, the one that plays the guitar.

And, unless her eyes are deceiving her, he's dressed as a Prince. More specifically, he's dressed as Prince Charming.

And she's standing here looking like Cinderella at the damn ball.

"Delia, I'm going to the bar," she announces, trying to ignore the stirring in her gut. "Are you coming?"

Delia shakes her head. "Hell no, I'm going to hold our table and watch. Bring me something." Delia sees it, how perfect it is that their costumes match. Niall doesn't seem to be with a matching Princess. For all she can tell, he came in alone. 

Teegan walks past Niall, to the bar, her path going just close enough to him that she knows he had to see her. She orders a shot of whiskey for herself and another flute of champagne for Delia, tipping the bartender and collecting their drinks. She takes a small sip of her drink before returning to her friend.

The room is filled with costumed people; there is definitely not a shortage of things to see. The girls giggle and drink, allowing themselves to have fun and enjoy themselves. Music pumps through the speakers as people move to the dance floor. The girls are content to watch, their eyes still darting to the corner of the room where Niall Horan is clearly enjoying the party.

An attentive waiter brings them new drinks, placing them on the table with cocktail napkins and a wink. "From the gentleman over there," he says in Teegan's ear.

"I'm sorry," she asks, confused. "Where?"

The waiter points. "Prince Charming."

Delia coughs, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh shit."

Teegan thanks the waiter and turns towards Prince Charming, aka Niall. She raises her glass and nods, a coy smile on her face. "Thank you," she mouths silently.

"Teegan." Delia's eyes are wide under her mask. "He's, um, he's coming over here."

"I didn't have you pegged as a whiskey drinker."

Her head tilts to the side as she turns toward the voice. "Oh no? What did you have me pegged as, then?"

Niall smirks as he leans on the table. "Well," he says, his eyes drinking her in. She watches as he moves from her eyes to her lips, to her chest and further down, the gown concealing her curves, but still showing plenty of skin. "I would've thought the champagne was for you."

"Ah, no. Champagne is good and all, but I needed something a little bit stronger. The champagne is for my friend, Delia," she manages, her voice a bit raspy. 

He steps closer to her, crowding her personal space. "At the risk of sounding forward, you make a lovely princess." He sips his own drink, tipping his glass towards her.

"And you, a most handsome prince." She arches an eyebrow and does a little curtsey. "Dare I say it looks like we stepped out of the same movie?"

He eyes her carefully. "They did say this was the Prince Charming costume. So, are you saying you're-"

"Cinderella? That was the thought," she says, cheeks aflame under her mask. She watches as Niall's mouth quirks into a smile; she turns around slowly, showing off her dress. "What do you think? Do I pass?"

Delia giggles and watches closely, wishing her glass could automatically refill itself and that popcorn would magically appear. 

Niall nods. "I'd say so." He takes her free hand in his, raising it to his lips and placing a kiss on the top of it. 

"Oh good lord," Delia groans. 

Teegan levels her with a look. "Delia, look who it is. It's Prince Charming," she introduces sarcastically.

"You know how this ends, right? You have a curfew and lose your shoe," she jokes, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

"I don't mind breaking the rules a little, and I guarantee I won't lose my shoe," Teegan laughs.

Niall bites back a laugh and leans closer to Teegan. "Let me see them," he says, nodding at her feet. She lifts the hem of her dress, raising it a few inches off the floor and revealing her right foot. Red polished toes encased in strappy silver Louboutins, the delicate strap wrapped around her slender ankle. She wiggles her foot for good measure. "I'll make sure those stay on."

Delia snorts as her friend blushes. "Well, now that we all know how this particular story will end, I guess I'm going to go mingle. You didn't happen to bring any friends, did you?" Delia's half kidding, totally prepared to find a cab back to their apartment and spend the night alone.

"Actually, yeah, I have a couple of friends here," Niall nods, looking around the room. He's enjoying the pretense of anonymity the costumes and the masks provide for the night. "Come with me, I'll introduce you." He holds an arm out for Teegan, then his other for Dee. They link arms and walk across the crowded ballroom, collecting a few stares as they go.

Niall stops at a banquet table filled with people - people Teegan immediately recognizes. Zayn Malik. Simon Cowell. Cheryl Cole. Piers Morgan. "Zee, man, come here." Niall makes quick introductions, certain his friend will enjoy the brunette's company. He wants to get the blonde alone. Zayn picks up on Niall's intent, taking Delia off to the balcony to smoke.

He's also ironically dressed as a Prince, Teegan notices, as he escorts her friend toward the door. 

"You've successfully offloaded my friend. Now what?" 

He laughs. She totally called him out. He might be in love. "Now what? I think it's fair you owe me a dance, yeah?" It's cheesy, but he can't help it. He wants to take her out on the dance floor, he wants them to be the center of attention. Sure, people may recognize him, but he's pretty sure she will remain anonymous. He hasn't seen her at any of these Syco events before; he has a feeling he'd remember tits like hers.

He takes her empty glass and sets it on the nearest table before grabbing her hand and leading her to the dance floor. A slow song starts, as if he'd cued it up himself, the singer of the band leading into a Michael Buble song. When they reach the middle of the floor, he spins her to face him, his hands circling her hips. She places one of her own at his shoulder, and drops her other one to his hip. 

He may not be a professional dancer, but he's learned enough to glide her around the parquet floor. "So, Princess," he nicknames her, "what brings you here?"

She giggles. "Well, I work for Glamour Magazine as a fashion editor. I'm on assignment," she explains. He arches an eyebrow under his mask.

"Oh really?"

She nods. "I'll write up my story for our website tonight. It'll go live in the morning."

"And what are you going to write about me? You have to mention the dashing Prince Charming," he goads, preening a bit, straightening up and reaching for the tie around his neck, tugging it so it's straight. 

She smiles. "Of course I do," she says coyly. "Maybe I'll say something about how accurate your costume is, how you were hardly recognizable, except for your hair." Her hand moves from his shoulder to his hair, her fingers threading through it on their own accord. His head tilts, reveling under her touch.

"My hair is the giveaway?" He laughs, a sound so melodic it blends with the music in the background.

She shrugs. "It was for me," she admits. "You won't mind me using your name, will you?"

Niall shakes his head. "Of course not. What else will you say?"

Her lips pucker, her signature thinking tell. "Well," she hedges, thinking, trying to form the proper words. "Perhaps I can talk about how charming you are, working the room, giving attention to everyone you've come across."

"Are you including yourself in that description?"

She blushes. He stills momentarily, watching her skin pinken. His face morphs into a smirk and she wiggles a little under his embrace. He pulls her a bit closer, pressing himself into her. He'd kept a safe distance at first, but he can't say that he necessarily wants to anymore. She gasps when he presses his hips forward subtly, his hard length pressing against her thigh. "I wasn't planning on it, no," she finally answers. "I'd just as soon leave myself out of the story."

"Oh come on," he says, his mouth close to her ear. "Prince Charming and Cinderella, sharing a dance at the ball, what better story could there be?"

They continue to dance, despite the song changing to something a bit faster. He steps back, taking her hand, spinning her in a circle and pulling her back to him. "I'm a nobody. No story here," she proclaims, resolutely.

Niall chuckles. "See, Princess, that's where you're wrong. I think there's definitely more of a story here."

She inhales sharply, the scent of him filling her lungs - lemon, citrus, grass. "Tell me more."

His fingers tighten on her hips, flexing above the fabric of her gown. "Not here." His blue eyes twinkle devilishly under his mask. The song is drawing to a close, Niall recognizes, spinning her again before lowering her in a dip. He holds her there for what feels like forever, Teegan thinks, as she's held her breath for almost as long. "Will you come with me?" If they weren't in the middle of the dance floor, he'd kiss her, her red lips teasing him, even more so when she gasps. 

She nods.

He pulls her upright and walks as slowly as he can manage off the dance floor and toward the exit.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The eighth floor of the OXO Tower is reserved for the building's restaurant. Niall holds Teegan's hand tight in his own, leading her down a corridor toward the elevators. He stops short, checking to see that they are alone in the hallway before pushing a door open. Teegan recognizes the corridor- it's where the toilets are. There are multiple doors, single unisex stalls… and Niall has just pulled her inside one.

They stand in the crowded stall, Niall backing her into the door, reaching behind her and locking it. "Can I?" His fingers reach for her mask, gently touching the sides of her face. She hesitates for the briefest of seconds. "Wait. Why don't you take mine off, first?" He drops his hands when he recognizes the trepidation in her eyes, realizes that he's just pulled her into the toilet, for God's sake, and knows he needs to let her drive this.

Teegan nods, one hand cupping his cheek, his stubble tickling her soft skin. Her fingers thread under the elastic band holding the mask to his face. She reaches with her other hand, pulling the mask up and off, Niall blinking, adjusting to the feel of returning to normal. "Hi," she smiles, her thumb rubbing across his cheek. 

"Hi," he chuckles. "My turn?" He smiles when she nods; he can't wait to see her face unburdened by the mask. He tries to be gentle, mimicking the same motions she used on him, lifting the mask up and off, careful to not disturb her hair. She looks down as soon as it's off. He tilts her chin up. "Hi."

She feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of this stall and out of her body right at the same time. Christ, but he is so good looking. She knew this, knew what Niall Horan looked like without a mask. But right here? Literally inches from her, stealing all of her oxygen, dressed as motherfucking Prince Charming? 

She inhales sharply, willing oxygen to enter her lungs. Niall steps closer, hands on her hips again. "I'm going to kiss you now, Princess."

"Teegan," she exhales. "My name is Teegan." He nods, smirking, before pressing his mouth to hers.

She relaxes almost immediately, her hands reaching up, clutching his thick, white jacket. She moans quietly, cognizant of the fact that they are huddled in a small toilet stall. She opens her mouth, allowing his tongue access to hers, feeling the slide of his tongue, their teeth clashing together. He pulls back, nipping at her lips, sucking her top lip briefly as his hands trail up her arms and over her breasts. "Mmm, yeah," Niall moans, rocking his hips into hers. 

Her body turns boneless, allowing him to hold her in place. "Niall," she whispers as he licks the spot under her ear, his tongue trailing across her skin on her neck. He leans down, his mouth focusing in on her exposed collarbone, one of his hands rubbing the satin covering her breast. She's bra less, she had to be in this low-cut dress and his fingers slide under the satin, teasing her sensitive nipple. "God, yes."

He ruts into her, his hard cock teasing her thigh. One of her hands drops from his jacket finding his ass, squeezing it, holding him close. She moves her hips slightly, lining him up, pulling him to where she wants him most, liquid pooling between her legs under her skirt. He reaches for the ball skirt, crumpling the delicate georgette fabric under his hand, pulling it up so he can feel the skin underneath. A long, calloused finger teases under the elastic of her g-string, gliding against her wet pussy. She groans into his mouth. "Oh God, yes, Niall." His name is long, drawn out with her Southern accent.

She inhales sharply when he pushes one finger inside her, her leg moving up and hitching around his thigh. His hold around her waist is strong; she believes she can balance herself on one leg, at least for the time being. She sends a silent prayer to the gods above - please don't let these Louboutins fail me now. Niall adds a second finger, coating himself in her juices, pumping them in and out. "So tight," he marvels, relishing in feeling her ridges surrounding his fingers. He groans when her hand comes into contact with his cock, her palm rubbing over him, over his pants. His hips shift forward, the friction so good and so needed. "Babe," Niall whispers in her ear. "I wanna-"

He's interrupted by a phone ringing. It's close; so close it sounds like it's coming from inside the stall. Niall knows his mobile is on vibrate, it always is. Teegan stills momentarily, her hips jerking under his hand. "Shit," she groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her head leans back against the door. Niall's fingers keep pumping and he leans down, licking a stripe between her breasts, getting as close to her nipple as he can without destroying her dress. He sucks on the sensitive skin there, nipping gently. The phone sounds again. He knows it's hers, he knows she's close, and he knows he's going to get her off.

"Come for me, Princess. I wanna feel you come," he moans quietly, taking her mouth with his. He teases her clit with his thumb, adding a third finger and curling them. Teegan gasps and shatters around him, squeezing his fingers, _ohgodohgodohgod_ falling from her lips in cadence with the tone of her phone. Her hands drop to her sides as she slides her leg back down to the ground, Niall bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking on each digit with a heated look.

There's only two people who would have the audacity to ring her right now, and one is only a few hundred feet away and probably occupied. The other is the Online Editor, who is probably phoning for an update. Teegan knows her deadline is fast approaching; she'd promised it would be ready by 2 am for formatting and posting.

Niall presses his lips to hers again, distracting her; the taste of herself heady on his tongue. She whines when her phone sounds again, pulling away from him and biting her lip. He chuckles, his thumb releasing her bottom lip from her teeth. "Go ahead and check it, yeah?" He steps back, adjusting himself, raking his hand through his hair.

If that was just a taste of things to come, Niall wants to get her out of here and to his house, immediately.

She reaches for her clutch, pulling her mobile out, silencing it and swiping her finger over the screen. He watches her face register as she reads the texts, going from surprise to annoyance. She takes a deep breath before locking eyes with him. "Niall, I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

Niall carefully masks his disappointment with a small smile. Shit. 

"I had a two am deadline that the online editor has decided to move up to one am. So, that means I have, roughly," she glances at her phone, "fifty minutes to write and edit before this thing goes live. She's pissed because pictures have already been hitting the internet or something." She finally stops talking, breathes, glances down. "I really am sorry."

"Hey," he says, lifting her chin up. "Don't apologize. I understand." He does. He's been interrupted for all sorts of things over the last few years. 

"Okay, so, um, yeah, I'll just go," she mumbles awkwardly, not really knowing what should or is supposed to come next after getting off in the loo with an exceptionally famous person. She reaches behind her, getting the door open on the first try. She smiles and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before stepping backwards and back into the corridor, closing the door in his face.

When Niall realizes what's just happened, he looks down and sees her satin mask at his feet with his own. She didn't leave her shoe, but she did leave behind something. He picks it up, twirling it around on his finger, thinking.

He wishes he could remember details aside from her first name. Teegan. What magazine did she say she wrote for? 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The entire contents of her small clutch are spread out on their kitchen table as she clicks away furiously on her MacBook. She's gone through all of her notes, toyed with her tone, attached accompanying images she obtained from Getty of all parties involved - all with about ten minutes to spare.

She's thankful she had already crafted most of the story in her head before her little encounter with Niall Horan.

He's mentioned briefly in her article, and Teegan did just as she said she would-describing his ornate Prince Charming costume and alluding to his matching personality.

Writing about him has made her a bit squirmy in her chair.

She's just finished her final spell check when Delia comes in, hair a bit disheveled, heels in her hand.

"And look what the cat dragged in," Teegan snorts as she hits send.

Delia levels her with a look. "Shut it. I didn't expect to see you back here."

Teegan arches an eyebrow. "And where, exactly, did you think I'd be?" She leans back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head before folding them across her chest. She's still in her ball gown-she had no time to waste when she got home.

Delia throws her shoes on the ground and pours herself a cup of coffee. For all of the tea in England, Delia refuses to give up her comfort drink. "I thought for sure you'd be off snogging Prince Charming somewhere. Doesn't he have a castle or some shit?"

Teegan laughs. "Cute. I don't know about any castle, and there may have been some snogging, but nothing too crazy. I had to make my deadline that got moved up an hour."

"Ooh, that sucks." Delia fidgets in her seat, hands reaching for, stacking and sorting all of Teegan's notecards. "Why?"

"The online editor flipped because pictures started posting online from the party. It was fine, I guess, I mean, it sucked to leave, but whatever. I had fun. Did you?"

Delia sighs, still shuffling the index cards in her hand. "Mmm hmm," she hums, her cheeks turning pink.

Teegan cocks her head. "Details. Now."

Delia pauses, her hands finally stilling. "Well, you know he totally set me up with Zayn Malik, right?"

Teegan nods, standing to fix herself her own cup of tea. "I was there for that, yes," she prods. "Go on."

"Yeah, so, Zayn takes me out on the balcony. We smoke some, drink some, and talk a lot. He told me he had a girlfriend, but that not everything is like it seems, or something, then he wouldn't talk about it again. He asked a lot about me, what brought us here, and he was just nice," she sighs, wondering how much to tell her best friend. She trudges on, after taking a deep, bracing breath. "I got him off in his limo as the driver drove around town before bringing me back here. He asked for my number."

"Delia! Oh my God, you what?" Teegan is genuinely shocked at her friends disclosure; Delia is definitely the more timid of the two. She laughs. "Oh my God," she repeats. 

Delia shakes her head. "I know. Total groupie move, but, I couldn't help it. I mean, he basically jumped me when I got in the car, which was all very cloak-and-dagger by the way," she hints, referring to how Zayn left, ordered the driver to circle the neighborhood three times before coming around to pick her up. "He asked, so I did." She cradles her head in her hands.

"We may need to work on you saying 'no' occasionally," Teegan jokes. "Well. Alright. So you got him off," she nods. "The boys are one for one, then, because I may have let Prince Charming get me off in the loo."

"The loo? Teegan, have you lost your damn mind?" Delia cackles. 

"He asked, so I did," Teegan mimics. 

She knows all is well when Delia offers her a fist bump.

"Let's go to bed," Delia yawns. "I'm suddenly very sleepy."

"Ironic coming from you dressed as Sleeping Beauty," Teegan winks as the girls stand and retreat to their rooms for much needed sleep.

When she wakes, Teegan has six missed calls and thirteen missed text messages. 

She opens the chain from her boss, Anne, the Editor-in-Chief of Glamour UK. Five messages. She braces herself.

_**Oh my God, is this you? xxA** _   
_**{Image}** _   
_**I thought you said you were going as Cinderella. And, well, this looks like you. xxA** _   
_**Is that really Niall from One Direction? !! xxA** _   
_**My 14 year old daughter is freaking out that Niall was at the party and seen with a woman. Help. xxA** _   
_**Call me when you can. xxA** _

Teegan rubs her eyes, enlarging the picture attached to Anne's first message. 

It is. It's her. It's a photo that was taken on the dance floor-the moment Niall dipped her and held her. 

Shit.

_**How was the party? Hope you had fun. Texas misses you. Love you. ~Mom** _

_**Your mom said you went to a ball as Cinderella. I always knew you were a Princess. DAD** _

She laughs when she sees a chain from Delia.

_**My hangover is real. Fuck Syco.** _   
_**Oh shit. Teegan.** _   
_**TEEEEEEEGS WAKE UPPPP** _   
_**OMG YOU'RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET.** _   
_**If you aren't up in six minutes, I'm coming in there.** _

All over the internet, she wonders. Surely not. She sits up, swinging her legs over the bed and preparing to get up.

_**404-04: @GlamourUKTeegan you have a new Direct Message from @ModestMgmt.** _

"Delia," she calls from her room, her voice rising octaves in minimal syllables. "Dee, we have a problem."

Delia pokes her head into Teegan's room, MacBook in one hand a steaming mug in the other. "No shit. You ready? Because I think the One Direction fandom is having an internet meltdown."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ok. Read this before I hit post." Teegan slides her MacBook to rest in front of Delia. 

"Had a great night at the Syco event. Thanks @NiallOfficial for the dance and all the new Twitter followers. xx teegs," Delia reads out loud. "Well. I mean, I guess that's easy enough."

Teegan sighs, rubbing her eyes. "They wanted me to acknowledge it. I mean, I can't deny it's me. Our pictures from the arrival carpet hit Getty this morning, too, they were just a bit more hidden."

"Well, they were until that picture leaked, which, by the way, you look amazing in," Delia chuckles. "You still don't know who took it?"

Teegan shakes her head. "No idea." She presses the Post button on Twitter, informing her almost 100,000 followers that yes, she danced with Niall Horan. She quickly types another tweet.

"If you want more scoop on what the celebs were wearing last night at the Syco Masquerade Ball, be sure to visit my blog at www.glamour.uk!" She reads as she types, a smile on her face. "Can't blame a girl for trying to up her view count, can you?"

"Atta girl. Chin up," Delia encourages, scrolling through Teegan's twitter mentions. "Dude, these fangirls are vicious." She wouldn't dare read any of them out loud to her friend.

"Yeah," Teegan sighs. "I can't believe I went from like, 20,000 followers to 100,000 in the last, what, three hours? This is nuts."

"Who knew a little spin on the dance floor and a sexy dip could be so good for business," Delia giggles. "We should probably put the masks up, yeah? Get the dresses sent to the cleaners? They're too pretty to not take proper care." She's bad about leaving stuff laying around, unlike Teegan. If it doesn't get done immediately, it'll never happen.

"Yes. After breakfast." Delia heads to the kitchen as Teegan crawls out of bed. Her pastel blue dress is laid out over a chair. Even dead tired, she'd taken the time to keep it off the floor. Looking around, sharp eyes take in her neat room. The silver Louboutins are in their place in her closet, her clutch is on the vanity, but the mask is nowhere to be seen. Maybe she left it on the table last night. It's rare for her to leave things out, but she was rushed to get her story out, not to mention flustered thanks to Prince Charming Niall Horan.

Teegan pads down the hall to the kitchen, checking twitter on the way. Already there are hundreds of notifications. She closes out. She may have to stay off twitter as much as possible until the furor dies down. Pulling up her email, a name catches her eye. 

_**GlamourUKTeegan, Niall Horan (@NiallOfficial) is now following you!**_

Oh. The timestamp indicates the email is only 10 minutes old. This should make the fangirls happy, Teegan thinks sarcastically. She follows him back anyway. Almost immediately a text comes through. 

_**404-04: @GlamourUKTeegan you have a new Direct Message from @NiallOfficial.**_

Her breath hitches. Okay. This day just keeps getting more interesting.

_**I have smthn of urs :)** _

Attached is a picture of her mask. Oh. So she didn't leave it in the kitchen. She left it in the loo. Lovely. She quickly fires back, a small smile playing at her lips, a low warmth at her center.

_**Can I get it back, please? It has some nice memories attached to it. ;)** _

Teegan walks into the kitchen to see Delia setting up to make omelettes, so she starts pouring coffee. "So, Niall followed me on twitter," she mentions casually. 

Dee's head whips around faster than the whisk in her hand is mixing the eggs. "I'm sorry, what?"

Just as casually, Teegan nods, "And then he dm'd me. He has my mask." She waves her fingers at Dee. "Get to cookin', woman," her Texas accent slips through. "I'm stahving."

Delia lifts an eyebrow and wrinkles her nose but returns her attention to the eggs, adding vegetables and cheese before whisking a bit longer. "Well? Did you dm him back?!" She's getting impatient with Teegan's teasing.

Laughing, Teegan answers, "Yes, of course, but I haven't heard back." Her phone vibrates in her hand, telling her she has a new message. She looks at Dee with a grin.

_**If u let me make u dinner**_

"He wants to make me dinner," Teegan whispers. A faint blush tints her cheeks. "He wants to make me dinner? He can cook?" She looks up at Dee, honestly surprised. "He wants to make me dinner." The look on her face can best be described as one full of wonder.

"You say that as if you're surprised he wants to see you again. Y'all hit it off last night, no?" Delia smirks, giggling at her corny pun. "You're telling him you're going to go, right?" She plates their food, passing one toward Teegan on the kitchen counter. "Teegs. You have to say yes."

Teegan nods, still staring at her phone. "Okay. Yeah," she murmurs. She pauses, trying to figure out her response.

_**I could do that, but only if you let me bring dessert. ;)** _

She drops her phone on the counter, acting as if it burned her. "And now we wait," she sighs, reaching for her mug and taking a healthy sip of her coffee. "Oh my God, what will I wear?" She sets her mug down and picks up her fork, playing with it in her hand. "Maybe I should wait for him to confirm. He might be talking about some day in the future, not like, tonight." Delia knows Teegan is just giving a voice to her inner monologue; it doesn't make it any less funny to listen to, though, she thinks, as she munches on her omelette.

Buzz.

_**Yes ! I love dessert ! I'll send a car at 7 where do u live ?**_

Teegan giggles at his exclamation of excitement. He's so cute. She sends him her address with a promise to be ready and waiting. "I have absolutely nothing to wear. We need to go shopping!" The nerves are settling in to stay, it seems. "After breakfast, let's hit up Westfield."

Delia claps her hands. "Yes!" They finish eating and prepare to spend a few hours doing what they like to do best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Car's here," Delia squeals from her perch at the window, where she’s been sitting for the last ten minutes. "You got everything?"

Teegan stands motionless by the kitchen counter. 

"Teegs. Come on," Delia jumps up, leaping into action. "You look amazing, hell, I'd even do you," she teases. "If he doesn't like the tiramisu, then he's an idiot and we’ll eat it when you get home. Chop chop, sis. Grab your purse." She gives Teegan a little nudge, snapping her out of her daze.

She's about to go to Niall's house for dinner. A dinner he's cooked. For her. The whole thing is surreal. She slips her Tory Burch crossbody bag over her shoulder before picking up another bag with the aforementioned dessert. "Okay," she says with a huff. Dee opens the door to meet a handsome man, dressed rather casually.

"I'm Basil, looking for Teegan?" Delia stands there, eyebrow arched, taking in the man.

"How do I know you're you," she asks, guarded.

"Delia, shut up," Teegan scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

"Niall sent me to drive her," Basil explains with a cool smile. "Can I carry your bag?"

Moments later, she's tucked into the back of a black Range Rover. She settles back into the plush seat and pulls out her phone to keep herself occupied and hopefully keep her nerves at bay. She concentrates on beating a level of Candy Crush as Basil navigates through the city.

The ride is smooth and over all too quickly. Basil coasts to a quiet stop at a gated garden that appears to be the backyard of a modest (for a millionaire pop star) cottage. Basil opens her door, and the smell of spices and meat fills her nose, making her stomach rumble. 

Basil escorts Teegan through the gate to the deck where Niall is manning a massive barbeque. "Smells amazing," Teegan calls out. "Hi." Basil walks past her into the house, carrying her dessert.

Niall looks her way with a wide grin, eyes raking over her, taking in her loose, black, scoop-necked shirt, cuffed, baggy white jeans and black, strappy heels. "Hey, hey, Princess! I hope you like your steak medium, it's my specialty."

"That sounds perfect," she smiles, stuffing her hands in her pockets, feeling a bit exposed despite being fully clothed. "Can I help with anything?"

Niall's face lights up. "I was going to make some sides, but wasn't sure what you'd like," he laughs, and she melts. "I've got all sorts of stuff inside," he gestures, pointing at his door. "Come on in."

Grilled vegetables, baked potatoes, beans, and Yorkshire pudding (courtesy of Basil) complete their dinner. Niall's pulled out all the stops, and Teegan fears she may be a bit intoxicated off of more than the wine she's drinking. The conversation is light, laughter abundant, and the food delicious. Basil's dry wit is the perfect foil to Niall's exuberance.

Niall is an excellent host, seeing to it that she wants for nothing. As soon as that thought crosses her mind, the low warmth that has been steady in her center starts to grow hotter. Flashbacks to a public loo and a hot make out session invade her mind. In order to distract herself from the dampness between her thighs, Teegan stands, gathering plates to carry to the sink in the island. "I brought tiramisu for dessert, shall I get it out of the fridge?" she calls back to Niall.

The dishes clatter to the counter when she feels Niall press against her back to murmur in her ear, "I had a little something else in mind for dessert." His fingers skate over her back. "This blouse has been driving me crazy." Her back is fully exposed, the only material hooked at her neck and the base of the shirt tucked neatly into her pants.

His hands drift around to her stomach under her top as she whispers, "Are we alone?" Teegan figures she'd better ask before her senses are completely overwhelmed.

"Oh yeah," Niall's voice rumbles in her ear. "Basil knows when to get lost." Her head falls back to his shoulder when he cups her breasts, his thumbs ghosting over her sensitive nipples, eliciting a quiet gasp. Soft lips nip at her ear, down her neck to the sliver of collarbone not covered by the loose shirt. "No bra, Princess? That's twice in a row, huh?" Teegan reaches back to his hips, pulling him into her, nodding.

Niall grinds his already hard cock into her ass. He unhooks the collar and spins her around, lifting her onto the island. Her blouse slips down her arms with the movement, exposing creamy breasts and peaked, rosy nipples. Niall dips his head, latching onto one nipple, pinching the other. 

Teegan's fingers comb into his soft, blonde quiff, holding him in place. "God, Niall." Her free hand tugs on his shirt, trying to find skin. "Off, please. I need to feel you."

Niall straightens quickly, whipping his shirt over his head. He steps between her knees, hands gripping her hips, as she traces every muscular ridge she can reach. Sliding her forward to the edge of the counter, he captures her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving in. He can taste the cherry and plum flavors from the wine on her tongue and it makes him crazy. “You taste so good, but I need more.”

His words trigger a response deep in her core. Teegan’s legs wrap around his waist, pressing her into his stomach, seeking friction to ease the ache that’s been building from the slow burn that started with his first message this morning. It’s not enough. After pulling her blouse off, she unfastens her jeans and, hooking her fingers into the waistband of jeans and panties, she wiggles around until they pool at her ankles. Niall rests his hands on the granite countertop on either side of her, content to watch the show with an amused look on his face.

She meets his gaze nervously before doing the same for him, her hands reaching for his jeans and unfastening, pushing, tugging until they fall to his knees. “God, you’re eager, aren't ya? I love it.” Niall kicks his shoes off and steps on his pants until he can get his feet out. He stops and takes in the sight of Teegan, completely bared to him, sitting on the island in the center of his kitchen. “I knew you were beautiful, but fuck, Teegan." She squirms at the need in his voice. "Let me get those pants off you. The shoes stay.” 

Teegan wants to weep, so desperate is she for relief, but Niall is so careful, gently tugging her jeans over her shoes, making sure the heels don’t catch and rip the fabric. “I appreciate you taking your time, sweetheart, but I need….” Her voice trails off at the devilish grin he shoots her. He’s enjoying tormenting her, but the twitch of his dick belies his impatience.

Finally, finally, he cups her ankle, lifting her leg to press kisses down it’s satiny length. She leans back on her elbows, breath hitching when his lips make contact with her clit. “God YES, Niall!” 

He pulls her forward, bringing her hips just to the edge of the counter, and spears her with his tongue. The sudden intrusion and subsequent burst of absolute ecstasy has her flat on her back as she gets a death grip on his hair, bending her knees over his shoulders, and grinding her pussy against his face. In the back of her mind, she knows she’s laying in something a bit sticky, but she can’t find it in herself to care. The only thing she can concentrate on is Niall’s tongue, Niall’s lips, Niall’s teeth working every nerve in her core. It doesn’t take long for her to shatter, the sensations more than she can bear.

Niall pushes her back on the granite, impatient, hoisting himself up onto the island, too horny to bother taking it to somewhere more appropriate. He hovers over her, his gaze intense and practically melting her. "I’ve got to have you now, Princess. I need to be inside you now.” 

She nods and whimpers, feeling moisture pool between her legs again, despite the fading pulses of a spectacular orgasm. Her hands reach for him, scrambling to get a grip, pulling him on top of her. She scoots back further, her head hanging off the island, spreading her legs, giving him room to maneuver. 

Niall is on her in seconds. A finger trails between her wet lips, teasing her, teasing himself. “Niall.” The same finger circles a hard nipple before he leans down to lick it clean. “Niall!” Teegan’s voice is strained, but insistent. “Come on, already!"

He smirks at her, trailing that same finger up her neck, over her bottom lip. He groans when her tongue darts out, capturing the digit and sucking on it, her tongue swirling around him. 

He is definitely stronger willed than she, but her tongue seems to spur him into action. Finally, he hitches one of her legs over his elbow and lines himself up, slowly sliding inside. “Oh, God, Niall, oh GOD.” He fills her completely, deeply. Her walls clench around him reflexively. 

As he pumps slowly, searching for a rhythm, she scratches his back, fingernails digging in each time he’s fully seated. Her one leg circles his waist, the other drops from the crook of his arm, her thighs squeeze his hips. After a few agonizingly slow slides, Niall loses control. He slips his hands under her shoulders, gripping her, holding her still, and slams into her, over and over. Her mewls mix with his grunts; her oh Gods mix with his fucks. Teegan digs her fingernails into his ass, a reflex when he sucks hard on her collarbone. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna come, Princess, come for me!” His voice is raspy, his words coming out in short bursts in cadence with his hips.

Right on cue, an explosion radiates outward from her core. Her back arches, her fingers flex, his name on her lips echoing through the kitchen.

Her walls clench around him so tightly, he can’t hold back. With a roar, he spills into her, his hips stuttering as he rides out the pulses milking him so deliciously. He drops his head to her shoulder, willing his heart and lungs to get back in sync with each other. Teegan giggles quietly beneath him, her fingers smoothing over his hair, raking patterns from his forehead to his neck. "If you keep doing that, I might fall asleep." She giggles again and Niall lifts his head to look at her.

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or be offended," she purrs, fingers still tangled in his hair, teasing him.

"It's absolutely a compliment." He lifts his head, giving her a high-wattage smile and she smiles back. He gives her a soft kiss. "I'm, um, sorry about the countertop." He blushes and knows he'll never look at his kitchen the same again.

Teegan wiggles under him, her back moving to the right then the left. "I have to say that's a first. There's, um, something sticky on my back."

Niall laughs and slides off of her, his feet firmly back on the floor. "Let's get you up, yeah?" He helps her off the countertop, standing as close as he dares to her, which is pressing against her. She leans back, allowing Niall to stand in her space, one leg between hers.

He's already hard again.

As soon as she feels him against her thigh, she forgets everything-why she's standing, why she's still in her heels, that she was going to suggest they actually have dessert.

Niall reaches behind her, grabbing a hand towel off the sink and flipping the faucet on. He drags it across the granite, water droplets smearing onto the surface. "Turn around."

She does as she's told, shivering when the damp towel makes contact with her back. He rubs gently, concentrating on a spot near the base of her spine. "Do I even want to know?"

Niall tosses the towel onto the counter and turns her around again. "Nope. Now. What do you say we actually have that dessert you brought?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turns out, Niall is a big fan of Tiramisu. Teegan turns seventeen shades of red when he fishes his iPhone out of his pants on the floor and takes a picture of it sitting on the counter. He fidgets with his phone for a couple of minutes before putting it on the counter and laughing sharply. "Had to put that on Insta."

"You are insane." She shakes her head from her perch at his kitchen table, clothed only in his t-shirt as he brings the cake over with two forks. 

"You should take a look," he challenges, eyebrow raised.

She cocks her head and smirks. "I don't follow you on Instagram."

Niall scoots out of his chair, feigning shock. "We have to fix that immediately. Get your phone." He smacks her on her bare ass as she walks by to collect her purse.

"Oh my god, Niall," she whispers. "Niall, you didn't." Her eyes are wide when she returns, but she's smiling. "You actually said 'I've had some amazing desserts here tonight. Here's one of em !'?"

He takes a bite of the tiramisu. "What? It's true." He shrugs unapologetically. If there's anything his fans know, it's that Niall has a very serious relationship with food. Nothing about that picture would send a red flag to his followers, of that he is sure. He just wanted to make sure Teegan got the message loud and clear.

"Give me a taste." She sits on his thigh and opens her mouth. Niall's eyebrows shoot toward his hairline but he recovers quickly. He puts a bite of the cake between her lips, stifling a groan when she moans. "That is so good. One of my favorites," she nods, wiping the corner of her mouth with her finger. 

Niall drops his fork onto the table. "You're making it hard for me to concentrate here. And I love some cake." His fingers tighten around her waist where he holds her still, his cock getting harder under her. She knows this, he's certain, when she wiggles just a bit.

"That's too bad, Niall," she shifts, turning to face him as she slides to her knees in front of him. He spreads his legs, giving her space to kneel and pull his boxers down enough to release his cock. "Maybe you should focus on this instead. I think you'll like it better than the cake."

Her tongue darts out, licking his slit, the taste of him salty before she takes him down. "Christ," he groans, his muscles tensing and his body going rigid. "Teegan, yes, shit," he babbles as her head bobs, as her fist grips his base, as her fingers tease his balls. She twists, swirls, tongues and licks all over him, secretly loving that he has his hand on the back of her head, holding her there. She trails one hand up his chest to rake her fingers over his nipples, pinching them into hardened peaks before she gently brushes the pad of her finger over them. 

She watches his face, enjoying watching him come apart all because of her-all because of what she is doing to him. She increases her rhythm on his dick, hollowing her cheeks and sliding her tongue up and down the sensitive skin. Niall's fingers twitch and he groans, all the warning she needs to take him down as far as she can, swallowing around him when he spurts into her mouth. 

She pulls off of him and sits back on her heels. "So, was that better than the cake?"

He laughs and hauls her up to her feet as he stands, closing his mouth over hers. "Fuck yes it was. If you keep doing stuff like that I may never let you leave."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _Does anyone have a good home remedy for getting chocolate out of white jeans?_

**@NiallOfficial:** _I had multiple desserts last night ! Hope ya still love me if I get fat !_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _What a gorg Sunday. Perfect for a patio and a beer. My legs can use the sun! ;)_

**@NiallOfficial:** _Beer, sun and football ! Perfect view ! What a beautiful day ! Glad t be home !_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**@NiallOfficial:** _Thinking of doing some baking ! Last night before we leave on tour ! What should I make ?_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _I swear all I've done since I moved to London is eat. But this cupcake is amazing...._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _I can't wait to go to Paris this weekend. Looking forward to buying some new shoes. Louboutin is calling my name ;)_

**@NiallOfficial:** _Paris, you are awesome ! Love shopping here !_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**@NiallOfficial:** _Just had a great meeting about 1D make up! it's that good im gona start wearing it myself_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _Spent this rainy day testing out a kit of new makeup for an upcoming blog. Purple eyeshadows + Blue eyes = magic!_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _I can’t be the only one whose boyfriend really enjoys the smell of lip gloss, right? He’s obsessed with smelling all of them._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

**@NiallOfficial:** _I've only now found about funnel cake ! Amped up on sugar !_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _Anyone know how to bring a kid off a sugar high?? I think I gave him too much candy! Help!,/em >_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _No, seriously. Do I feed him with more sugar? Like a Gremlin?_

**@NiallOfficial:** _I have just got powdered sugar everywhere ! What a mess !_

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _FYI: Sugar crashes are a bitch. I'm exhausted and need a bath and a nap._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the invitation to the SYCO Annual Masquerade lands on her desk, she phones Delia. "So this year I got my own personalized invitation to the SYCO party. Will you be my date?"

Delia snorts. "When are y'all gonna make it official and be seen together? It's been a long year of having to cover your tracks."

Teegan sighs, twirling her hair between her finger and tapping her pencil on her desk. "I know it has. We haven't exactly been subtle, but I don't know. I don't know if he's ready." 

It's been a long year. A very long year. Niall's been away more than he's been in London, and in some ways, absence has made the heart fonder and all that. 

Their reunions have been so sweet-- literally and figuratively. One of them manages to surprise the other with whatever the local dessert specialty is, which usually results in an Insta/Twitter fest, both of them alluding to their relationship but never confirming and never replying directly to the other.

The fan reaction to their picture at last year's ball was insane by Teegan's account. She disabled her Twitter reply notifications for about a month after that and refused to read any comments posted on her blog unless they had been sent to her by her boss (who made no secret of appreciating the extra web visitors). The fans tried to insinuate a relationship, giving them a "ship name" that she still sees every so often on her feed.

"Hey, you got a package here for when you get home. It looks like it's from him," Delia says in a muffled voice as she inspects the large box that had been delivered this morning. "It's big."

"Does it have holes on the side for air?" She laughs. It would be just like him to send her something breathing; she had to ask.

"No, but by my estimate it weighs about fifteen pounds."

Teegan's stumped. She opens her iPad on her desk and types a message.

_**What have you sent me, Ni? Dee says it's heavy. PS: I got my invite to the SYCO ball....** _

She doesn't have to wait long for a response.

_**You'll have to wait and see ! And Pauly told us about it earlier !** _

That's it? She's annoyed. She knows he has a break in their US Tour the week before and after the ball. She also knows he's coming home for those ten days before going back to Los Angeles.

She looks at her One Direction calendar on her filing cabinet, a gag gift from Niall where he'd taped pictures of himself onto every month. If anyone thinks it's suspicious in her office, she laughs and says it's from a friend. She checks today's date. He's in New York.

She particularly hates it when he is so close but so far away.

_**I miss you.**_

_**I miss u too Princess !**_

She rushes through the rest of her day, anxious to get home and open her package. She tosses everything in her hands onto the kitchen counter, Delia waiting for her at the kitchen table, the big white box sitting in front of her with a pair of scissors.

As she cuts through the tape, she's taken back to this time a year ago, carefully cutting around packing material. Everything is red. She pulls it out carefully. "Oh my God." She checks the tag, confirming her suspicion. "It's an Elie Saab. Pink wore this at the Oscars this year," she whispers, holding the gown up in front of her. She grips the beaded shoulders, the long sleeves falling down her arms, the deep v-neckline defining the bodice, the slight belt wrapped around the waist of the dress. The beads continue down the full ball skirt, silk and taffeta pooling at the floor. It's altered some from the original as there is no train, but the dress is heavy in her arms.

"Teegan, it's gorgeous," Delia sighs wistfully. "There's more," she says, pointing inside the box.

Teegan peeks into the box, seeing a gold box with the coveted white script. Louboutin. She lays the gown over a chair and lifts the smaller box out, removing the lid and gasping. She fingers the satin and suede open toe platform pumps, paying careful attention to the delicate bow tied at the ankle. "Oh my God."

"Oh my god is right," Delia laughs. "Holy shit, those are amazing. He did good."

"I tried these on in Paris," she sighs. Teegan spies an envelope at the bottom of the shoe box with her name on the outside in Niall's familiar penmanship. 

_**Be my Princess at the ball? Maybe this year I'll have to call you Buttercup. xx Niall** _

"Buttercup? Did he just reference The Princess Bride?" Teegan sits heavily in the chair. "He did, didn't he?"

Delia nods, smiling. "He did. Think he'll go as Westley?"

Teegan sighs and looks at the amazing gown draped next to her. "I guess we will have to wait and see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes some maneuvering in her giant ball skirt, but the girls are tucked safely in the back of a sleek Mercedes, watching the city speed by outside their window.

She's seen Niall a few nights in a row, thanks to their break from the tour, but his jet lag has been crazy and he hasn't been feeling 100%. That's okay, she thinks, smoothing her hair under the red satin mask. Delia applies her red lipstick in her mirror, offsetting her black mask.

"My costume is okay, right? You know who I'm supposed to be?"

Teegan nods. "Of course. Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany's? You've got the perfect dress and the pearls seal the deal. And that cigarette holder is the best prop I'll see all night," she giggles. 

"Well, you do make a lovely Princess Buttercup," Delia compliments truthfully. "Your extensions look awesome."

She's nervous as the butterflies wage a small war in her stomach. Niall never really confirmed his costume with her, always changing the subject or distracting her when she brought it up.

They pose on the arrivals carpet, smiling both together and separately. One of Delia's books was recently published and was making its way up the GoodReads popularity chart, so it was high time she had some publicity for herself. Her novel about two women spending a summer traveling and creating a bucket list resonated closely to their own experiences and Teegan couldn't be more proud of her friend.

This time when they enter the party, they are met with more familiar faces. Immediately the girls see Louis and Zayn, both dressed like they stepped out of the roaring 20's. Delia chats with them while Teegan searches the room for Niall.

"This time, I know you prefer whiskey." 

Niall hands her a glass, dressed all in black like Westley, complete with a black sash as his mask. "And this time, there's no mistaking you or your hair," she smiles when he kisses her on her cheek.

"Princess, you make a fine Buttercup," he says, his eyes lingering on the expanse of skin the dress reveals down her chest. His fingers itch to touch, to drag a finger between her breasts, but he reigns himself in, barely. "It looks like we came from the same movie again."

She smirks. "How about that? In this old thing?" She spins in her dress, giving Niall the full effect. "I just had this lying around for a night like this."

He laughs heartily, motioning for his friends to join him. She hugs Liam and Harry quickly, listening to their banter and sipping her liquor. 

This is it. This is when they are going to officially be seen as a couple, she thinks, the butterflies now launching a full civil war inside her. "Let's go dance, Princess."

He takes her to the parquet floor, leading her in dance after dance, allowing everyone in the room their opportunity to gawk at them. Niall's never really been seen with a woman, much less at such a formal event. They know it, they've discussed it, and they've always agreed when he was ready, she would be willing.

"You're okay with this?" Her voice is barely a whisper. He holds her close and nods.

"I am. What name did they call us?" He spins her out before pulling her back into his chest. 

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh. No ship names." He laughs and dips her, just as he did before, and just as he's done since when they dance alone in his kitchen, or in his hotel room, or wherever the fancy has struck him over the last year.

When he presses his lips to hers in the middle of the dance floor, the butterflies fly away despite the cameras flashing in the distance. 

"Shall we go to the loo for old times sake," he murmurs in her ear when she is standing upright again. She wraps her arms tighter around his waist and laughs.

"Why don't you just take me home, instead?"

When they leave, all she sees are people smiling at them, most notably among them Mr. Simon Cowell. He's quite smug, that one; having put together one of the most successful boy bands of all time, he's totally going to take the credit for fixing Niall up with the cute blonde. They met at his event, after all, even though last year, he didn't even know her name.

Within hours, it seems, a lot more people will know her name and know she's on Niall's arm, at least for the time being.

**@GlamourUKTeegan:** _Another great SYCO ball...and this time I left with my Prince. Perfect night._

**@NiallOfficial:** _Had some great dessert at the SYCO ball ! Heading home for some more ! I can't get enough !_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Funnel Cake (Outtake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @NiallOfficial: I've only now found about funnel cake ! Amped up on sugar !
> 
> @GlamourUKTeegan: Anyone know how to bring a kid off a sugar high?? I think I gave him too much candy! Help!
> 
> @GlamourUKTeegan: No, seriously. Do I feed him with more sugar? Like a Gremlin?
> 
> @NiallOfficial: I have just got powdered sugar everywhere ! What a mess !
> 
> @GlamourUKTeegan: FYI: Sugar crashes are a bitch. I'm exhausted and need a bath and a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had to. Funnel cake? Powdered sugar? More kitchen sex? It was necessary.

It rains a lot in London, Teegan huffs, as she sloshes from the market in her shiny black Hunter boots back to the flat she shares with Delia. She prays the powdered sugar she's just purchased is wrapped well enough in her bag to stay dry and not be ruined.

It was a random thought, to make her own funnel cakes. She was just so nostalgic, checking Facebook, seeing all of her friends at home going to the Houston Rodeo and posting pictures of the concerts and all of the amazing food. She can't say she necessarily missed the annual experience, but her tummy did long for that fried batter and sugar concoction that somehow only tasted so good at a fair-type setting.

"Why don't you make some yourself? Can't be that hard," Delia suggested. And so here she is, armed with everything she needs to make funnel cakes, surveying their small kitchen with her lips pursed.

There is only one other person she knows that would share her excitement about baking and sugar. And he has a much larger kitchen with every gadget she could possibly need.

_**Care for some company? I have something I want to try in your kitchen. ;)** _

Niall's response is immediate.

_**U know u can do anything u want in my kitchen as long as I get t have some too !** _

She blushes and giggles, his response exactly what she expected from her loaded message.

Okay, maybe she’s excited about a bit more than baking and funnel cakes. 

_**What time should I send Bas? U ready?** _

She looks down at her messy appearance - off-the-shoulder black sweatshirt, tattered jean shorts, knee high socks, boots, hair in a bun. Niall does enjoy it when she shows some skin, she thinks, a manicured finger tapping on her chin.

_**Give me an hour. xx** _

She double checks her shopping bag, ensuring everything she needs (including the recipe) is protected from the elements; they are. She dances into her bedroom, pulling open a drawer where she stores her most precious lingerie. She thumbs carefully through the lace and satin, looking for something in particular…

Perfect. 

The ivory tissue paper is a bit wrinkled, but the delicate lace tucked inside is untouched, Teegan having never worn it and instead saving it for a special occasion. She unwraps it, pulling the hot pink bra and panty set to her chest, studying her reflection in her mirror. Today’s as good of a day as ever to wear it; La Perla should only be so proud.

Satisfied when her pink bra strap is peeking out from the loose neckline of her sweatshirt, she lounges for a minute on the couch, iPad in hand, studying the Food Network's funnel cake recipe. She's a novice baker, Niall is actually more skilled in this area than she, but she's willing to give it a try.

What could possibly go wrong?

It’s when Teegan surveys the absolute disaster of Niall’s kitchen some hours later that she has her answer. Technically nothing went wrong. The cakes themselves were, well, a piece of cake. Powdering them with sugar was when things started to get out of hand. There’s strawberry syrup streaked over the island, across the floor; there’s fine, white powder everywhere. Is that a white butt-print on the fridge? _Oh God it IS._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Basil deposits her at the back entrance as per usual. Niall is ready and waiting, practically bouncing in excitement. He meets her at the door with a hug, picking her up slightly off the ground and she giggles. He kisses her on the cheek and leans into her ear. “So, what’re we makin’?”

Teegan giggles again. “I had a craving for funnel cakes. It’s fair-slash-rodeo time back home. I kept seeing all these pictures on Instagram and Facebook, and I got hungry,” she blushes. “Honestly, they were the only reason I’d go to the fair or the rodeo, anyway. They’re the tastiest part! Paula Deen says they’re easy to make, so….”

Niall’s eyebrows scrunch together slightly. “Funnel cake?” 

Teegan spins around to face him, swallowing a gasp. “Yeah, funnel cake? You know,” she rummages through her tote bag, pulling out the recipe. “It’s basically fried dough with powdered sugar on top, or whatever toppings you want to add.” She shows him the picture in the middle of her printed page from the Food Network’s website. “I figured, if I could figure out how to make them, these would be right up your alley.”

Niall’s face splits with a huge grin once he sees the picture. “Funnel cakes!” he whoops, understanding dawning. He’s had these once before, when they were in the States, performing at some venue somewhere he can’t remember. Taking the bags from her hands, he leads her into his spotless kitchen. He grabs the recipe from her, reading quickly and nodding. “I can definitely help you with this,” he says, resolutely. He scrounges around in a drawer and pulls out a huge apron and hands it to her. “You might need this. Don’t wanna get anything on your clothes.” He waits for her to wrap it around her torso, reaching around and fashioning the ties near her ass instead of her waist; he chuckles when the fabric hangs below her knees, covering her shorts entirely. 

Teegan strikes a pose, one hand on her hip and the other at her head. “It’s a little big, but that’s okay,” she shrugs and glances down, reading the bib across her chest. “I rub my meat for 2 minutes,” she says drily. “Seriously, Niall?”

Niall laughs, loudly. “What? It’s a grilling technique, babe,” he points at the small script under the larger writing across her chest. “I’ve got some meat you can rub for two minutes, if you’d rather do that instead.” The urge to make the joke was too strong; he couldn’t resist and nearly falls over laughing. 

“You can stop that or we won’t make it to making these funnel cakes,” Teegan harrumphs. Hands snake around her waist and pull her in for a chaste kiss that turns heated. “Mmmf,” Teegan pushes on his chest. “There you go again, endangering the sweets baking! Back up, mister.”

Niall sits on a bar stool, content to watch Teegan move around his kitchen, offering direction when she asks for it. She doesn't need much, but she works like a Tasmanian devil-everything is everywhere within a few minutes. She's not messy, per se, she just has everything where she can see it and reach it easily. Flour, vanilla, oil, strawberry syrup, powdered sugar, whipped cream - _wait, whipped cream?_ Niall’s suddenly very anxious to see how this turns out.

It's cute, Niall surmises, turning his attention back to the blonde and watching Teegs concentrate. Everytime she consults the recipe, she bites her lip in concentration, then she scans all of the ingredients on the counter before selecting the right one. A few tendrils of hair have worked their way loose from her bun and she has a hint of flour on her cheek. He watches her mix ingredients in two bowls, really wishing he could lick the spoon.

"Do you have a hand mixer?" Teegan's request snaps Niall out of his reverie. He hops up, finding the gadget in one of his cabinets.

"Need some help?"

She shakes her head. "I think I've got it. Why don't you sit back down and lick the spoon," she winks, handing him the cake-covered cutlery.

He watches as she heats the large skillet, the hot oil snapping and sizzling as its temperature rises. She jumps a couple of times when the oil bubbles; Niall resists the urge to help her, knowing she wants to do this herself. She squeezes the batter from the little bottle she brought, creating spiral-like shapes in the skillet, the funnel cake taking life in front of their eyes. Once one is done and cooling on a plate, she creates another, using the rest of the batter.

The satisfaction on her face is priceless, he thinks, as he snaps a picture of her, flour all over her and hair an absolute mess. She'd kill him if she knew, but that's okay. She's too cute to resist.

"Niall? Wanna come put the powdered sugar on them?" She knows Niall and knows his sweet tooth. She figures she might as well let him do this much.

Niall stands slowly, the bag of powdered sugar teasing him in Teegan's hand. "I think that's a good job for me, yeah?" He takes the bag from her, quickly grabbing a scoop from the island and sticks it inside, producing a heaping spoonful.

"Maybe you should…," she suggests, eyes widening at the amount of sugar he's about to dump on the funnel cake. 

He smirks. "Maybe I should what," he challenges. Before she has a chance to respond, or even blink, powdered sugar is everywhere. 

Her black sweatshirt and the black apron covering it are white. She's pretty sure her bra is also white, Niall has dumped the entire spoonful down her front, laughing along the way. "Niall!"

He drops the spoon to the island, pulling her to him, sugar transferring from her to him as he kisses her soundly. "Teegs," he moans into her mouth. "Did you really think we would get this far without me getting a taste?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "But I thought," she starts, her protest dying quickly on sugar covered lips. Niall licks that spot under her ear, teasing her neck, fingers tugging the tie on her apron. He raises it off of her head, dropping it to the floor in a cloud of white. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Teegan spies the bottle of strawberry syrup. She surreptitiously grabs it, flipping open the top and stepping back. With a wicked grin, she squirts, leaving pink stripes across Niall's chest. He sputters, _"Teegan!"_

She squeals when he grabs for the bottle, "Niall, no! If I get sugared, you get syruped!" She dances away, squirting all the while, syrup now covering his pants and his face, too. 

"I hope you're gonna lick me clean," Niall smirks, swiping a finger across her chest, leaving a trail of pink through the sugar. He smacks his lips, sucking on his finger, moaning at the sweet flavor. 

Teegan drops the bottle, not caring that it’s still open, not caring that it pools onto the tiled floor. She grabs at Niall, moving to divest him of every stitch of clothing, running her hands over every hard, muscled inch in the process. Leaning in, she licks a wide path up his neck, making sure to get every drop of syrup, nibbles on his ear, and reaches for the whipped cream. This time, he notices. 

“Nope, not this time.” He strips her of her sweatshirt and eyes the pink, almost candy-like bra. “Uh. Um.” He can’t seem to form any words, so instead, he takes the can of cream and deposits two dollops, one on each covered nipple. Teegan giggles. He unfastens her shorts and pushes them down. “God.” She’s candied perfection in her hot pink underwear and knee-highs. He draws a line down her stomach in frothy cream, ending at her center. Hands grip her waist, holding her still, and he mouths each nipple, sucking the cream off, licking through the bra, until each is peaked and aching. Slowly, Niall lowers himself, hands replacing lips, squeezing her breasts, and licks his way down her torso. “Mmm I love whipped cream.” His tongue teases her clit over her panties, hands now gripping her ass. 

“Niall…” Teegan moans, hips canting into his mouth. He is ridiculously talented with his tongue, but she wants to play, too. The fingers threaded into his hair tighten, tugging. His ministrations slow to a stop, and he looks up with questioning eyes. “Up. My turn.” 

His eyes darken as understanding dawns. He kisses his way back up her torso to her lips, tongue driving in, dueling with hers. She can taste herself, she can taste powdered sugar and whipped cream. It’s more intoxicating than a fine wine. Her fingers scratch down his back, grip his ass, pulling him as close as she can, mentally cursing the underwear she’s still wearing. Wrenching her lips free, she mimics his earlier actions, kissing, licking, sucking down his torso, until she’s on her knees, his hard, pink cock in her face, already leaking, begging for her mouth.

The forgotten bottle of syrup catches her eye. Teegan looks up at Niall and over to the syrup. She raises an eyebrow is silent question. His dick twitches. She takes that as affirmation. Pouring a small puddle in her palm, she dips a finger in and begins to paint his shaft. As soon as she’s satisfied, she leans in and licks. “God, Teegs,” Niall moans. Her tongue swirls, her lips suck. She moans at the sweet flavor and doesn’t stop until every last sweet spot is gone, never once so much as touching his leaking head. His fingers are clenched on the counter behind him; his eyes are squeezed shut; his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. It’s a sight to behold. 

She kisses her way back up, again mimicking him. He pulls her in, kissing her, and turning her, lifts her onto the counter, not once breaking the kiss. A cloud of white powder floats around her hips, but neither of them notice. All Teegan can feel is his lips, his hands, the ache in her center begging for relief. She wraps her legs around him, thighs tight around his waist. Her hands grip his shoulders, pulling him close. His hands roam over her back, dipping down into her panties, up beneath her bra. “I need in you, Teegs,” Niall groans.

He hooks a finger in her panties, pulling them to the side, and drives himself home. She slides off the counter, her thighs and his hands holding her up. Her hips grind against him, her fingers dive into his hair, grip his neck. Their lips are fused together. His hips buck, pounding into her. He walks, hips thrusting with each step, until they bump into a wall or something, God, who knows what, it’s solid, and he uses it to brace her so he can get his hands on her tits. He pushes the cups down with a growl. Her head thumps back against the surface as his lips move to her neck, his fingers teasing her now exposed nipples. She scratches his scalp, down to his shoulders, nails digging in.

His hands move back to her hips, sliding underneath her legs, spreading her more, and leans back, changing the angle slightly. Her arms spread, fingers scrambling for purchase, grabbing something - a magnet? - as he pounds into her. Niall watches her, the look on her face almost sending him over the edge. “Come for me, babe. God, please, come for me.” His fingers find her clit and pinch. It’s enough.

Teegan screams his name as the ache explodes into sweet release, fire spreading through her veins from her core outward. Her walls clamp down around him, pulling him deep, and he lets go, pumping through their shared orgasm, riding out waves that threaten to pull him under. 

Now sated, Niall loosens his grip on Teegan, her shaky legs finding footing on the floor. She grimaces, strawberry goop oozing between her toes. "Oops," she blushes. "Niall, we've made a mess."

He turns around, eyeing his kitchen. "It was worth it. I'll call someone to come clean."

Teegan gasps. "No, you won't. I'll take care of it." She pauses, moving strands of hair out of her face. "Right after we have some cake."

Niall laughs, tossing Teegan his tshirt and putting on his boxers. "Don't let me stand in the way," he gestures to the disaster that is his kitchen island.

"You are always in my way," she mutters, grabbing two plates from his cabinet and plating the funnel cakes. "I am not letting you put the sugar on them, either." Niall pouts and she laughs as she works, powdered sugar, whipped cream and the strawberry sauce (what's left of it, anyway) piling high on their carnival treats. Niall holds a fork out to her and they sit, side by side, eating and playing footsie.

"These are so good," Niall moans appreciatively. "Seriously, like, can you make another one?" She watches as Niall finishes his cake and starts pulling pieces from hers, dipping the fried dough into the powdered sugar on the plate. 

"I'm not making another one. I think we have plenty here." Niall finishes hers off, then jumps up, turning the stereo on and playing some pop music through his sound system , filtering the music into all of the rooms of his house. 

One minute, he's playing the air guitar, the next, he's shaking his ass to the beat like a spastic robot. Through her giggle fits, she sees him sliding through the mess on the floor like he's Tom Cruise in Risky Business, minus the sunglasses. He skates by her once, pulling her to her feet, forcing her to dance with him, sticky feet and all.

He grabs the canister of whipped cream. "How about we go finish this off?" He squirts a small dollop on her nose, licking it off before she can even react. "We can clean the kitchen later. I'd much rather have seconds now."

For future reference, dried strawberry syrup is a bitch to clean up. If Basil thought the mess was unusual, he didn't let on to it when he stopped by in the morning for Niall's morning bike ride. And when he took her home, he absolutely did not mention the powdered sugar on her sweatshirt, instead thinking Nialler must have had one hell of a night.

In fact, he knows he did, if their tweets were any indication.


End file.
